The Continuing Legend of Cloud
by Lord Falkreig
Summary: A mysterious man attacks Cloud and his brother


Disclaimer- I do not own Cloud, I do not claim to own Cloud. Don't sue me, please.   
Thank you.  
***Please read and review.***  
  
The Continuing Legend of Cloud  
  
It was winter, the forest was filled with snow. In glades of tall white aspen   
trees, a gigantic warrior sat upon an equally massive horse. A black shroud draped   
almost to the ground covering his entire body. He tossed back his cowl with a silver   
gauntleted hand, and uncovered his head, upon which a helm topped with a plume of   
raven feathers swayed easily in the frigid breeze. From under his helm, strands of   
jet hair hung in front of sunken black eyes; eyes receded so far back that it   
appeared as if he had none.  
  
He was slumped forward in his saddle, peering down into the snow. A bloody   
foot print showed him that he had chosen his course well. The spore aimed him a   
little to the left of his present direction; he had been pursuing his prey   
along a well trodden game trail until now. Now the wounded man and his compainions   
had turned into the brush in an effort to throw the warrior off their trail. But   
it was hopeless to attempt to hide a wounded man's steps, blood was easily tracked,   
especially by this hunter. The warrior could smell the blood, almost taste it  
in the air. His heart began to race, his nostrils flared and he licked his lips   
with a hunger soon to be satisfied. He was close.  
  
Leaning back he pulled his great warhammer Yestelmorn from the saddle. The   
seven foot handle lay comfortably in his hands. To most mortal men the size would   
be to great to weild. But this warrior was no mortal man. He ran his hand along the   
raised inscription in the side of the hammer's metal head. The runes of battle were   
there, crafted with great skill in the metal works of a fortress which had fallen   
ages ago to the war lord.   
  
After a small way he gazed through the trees. There, on a hill in a clearing   
they sat panting. The wounded archer gripping a broken black shaft sunk deep in his   
thigh, was wincing as he crouched. The three swordsmen were glancing round with   
worried looks behind them, asking themselves, "Where was the hunter?"  
  
The hunter smiled as he dropped his hammer head first into the snow. It landed   
with a thud and rocked back and forth until it stood still, handle in the air.   
He drew his black long bow and knocked an arrow fitted with a signal whistle. He   
drew back the arrow and let it fly through the air.  
  
As the shrill cry of the arrow screamed through the wood, the four men looked   
back in fear: he had come! They turned and drew their weapons as a black arrow   
landed in the center of the hill.  
  
Not far enough away the black warrior replaced his bow and threw back his   
streaming cloak, revealing a silver breast plate that mirrored the grey winter sky.   
He reached down and pulled up the fell hammer. Rearing his horse he dug his heels   
in to his horse ferociously. The horse yelped and charged forward at full speed.  
  
In the clearing the archer drew his bow, soon the man (if one could call that   
monster a man) would come within range. The wounded archer fitted his arrow and   
tried to steady his aching leg. The sound crashing towards him at unreal speed told   
him how close his target was. Suddenly a flash of black, that monster would be in   
the thining trees soon. Closer...closer...there!   
  
The arrow flew perfectly straight, it had been well aimed. The warrior raised   
his left hand slowly. Then less than a yard from impact, the arrow suddenly exploded   
into splinters. Charging on through the cloud of wooden spray, the warrior burst   
onto the hill.  
  
The first swordsman froze in terror. He recieved a blow from Yestelmorn full   
in the face and was sent sprawling onto the ground where he lay still.  
  
The next two were more agile and jumped clear of iron shod hooves in time. The   
archer drew his bow again. He let his arrow fly as the warrior slowed to turn his   
charging beast. In a movement so fast it defied human reflexes, the warrior deflected   
the shaft with his hammer and now knew his next target.  
  
The archer turned, crying for help and hobbling as quickly as possible to avoid   
his obvious demise. Hearing their kinsman, one of the swordsmen threw his blade   
spinning towards the warriors back. The warrior deftly avoided the trajectile by   
leaping into the air and onto the archer. As the monster's foot landed, the archer's   
back crunched and he let out a painful cry, which was stiffled when the hammer came   
crashing down onto the man's head.  
  
As the warrior stood to his full nine feet, the unarmed man stumbled back. His   
comrade, however did not. He ran forward and lept, loosing a warcry as he flew. The   
hammer met him in midair and flung him into the ground.  
  
Staring with wide eyes, the unarmed man cursed himself, he had been rash to   
throw his weapon, it hadn't helped any way.   
  
The Warrior smirked as he took a step forward. The man cried, "Gold master,   
I have gold I'll gi--"  
  
That was all that was heard as the hammer streaked through the air and into his   
head. 


End file.
